


Demon's Help

by SmallChicken



Category: Long Exposure (Webcomic)
Genre: AU, Dean Wagner (mentioned) - Freeform, Demon, Demon Mitch, Gay Sex, Jonas is sexually frustrated, Light Angst, M/M, Masturbation, One Shot, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Priest Jonas, Religion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-31
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-04-16 10:56:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14163324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmallChicken/pseuds/SmallChicken
Summary: Jonas's hands crept haphazardly towards his laptop, the glowing screen mocking him as his reflection showed. Before he could feel any worse about what he was doing, he slowly clicked the keys, letters appearing into the google search bar. "Pornhub.Com".(Priest Jonas gets a little help with his late night activity from demon Mitch.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is my first story I've ever posted on here, so I'm welcome to any kind of feedback you have!

Jonas's hands crept haphazardly towards his laptop, the glowing screen mocking him as his reflection showed. Before he could feel any worse about what he was doing, he slowly clicked the keys, letters appearing into the google search bar. "Pornhub .Com"   
The blue bar haunted him as it went by, the shocked and disgusted eyes of Dean appearing in his thoughts. "I can ask god for forgiveness." He reminded himself. Even if he was a soon-to-be priest, he could still get forgiveness, right? "Im okay."

Not that he believed himself. 

Masturbation was a sin, he could argue that it shouldn't be all he wanted, but it still stood tall above those thoughts. The scare from before, the feeling of being watched, being eaten by someone's eyes crept in, but Jonas chalked it up to negative reinforcement from Dean. There were no demons in his home. There couldn't be, no way.   
Demons are stuck to places, not people. He would've been told that there was paranormal activity before he moved in. And even then, if they could be, they'd try to communicate with people, if not full-on possess them. The idea of the shadows around his room creeping up on him, grabbing at him consumed his head- no.   
Not now. There are no demons here.   
As the videos appeared in the search engine, and the hilariously misspelled titles along with them, he felt a shiver. Just from looking at the thumbnails he could feel things happen. If he really did all he wanted to, he'd have a lot more to ask forgiveness for then masturbation.   
The more he looked, the more enticing it was. The blue light brightly washing over his face, a milky color swept over his wall. He slowly began to feel warmer. Hotter. The knot in his stomach getting tighter. He had to touch something. As much as he wanted to though, he couldn't. He didn't move. The quiet moans from his screen drowned out his thoughts, but he didn't make any action to remedy it.   
He almost felt stuck. He thought of the girl in front of him, how pretty she was, how swept up in a sea of pleasure she was, but his now clammy hands still wouldn't budge. Not that they had to.   
He felt a pressure, like a finger, a hand, lightly pressing at the tip. He let out a light whimper, his body clenching. He wasn't sound of mind enough at this point to look down, but a small voice in the back of his head was beckoning him to. Or was that right near his ear? It didn't matter.   
His eyes closed as the pressure turned to a wrapping warmth around his girth. "N...nnuuhh"   
He almost couldn't let out any noise. His breath was stifled, something different about what he was experiencing. Something consuming. The tightness in his stomach was overshadowed by the incredible sensation he could only describe as relief.   
He threw his head back, mewling as his toes curled, not even thinking about how exactly he was leaning into nothing. Nothing had ever felt this good. As far as he could remember, there wasn't even much touching going on at this point, yet it had his eyes rolling back. 

"You're so cute." 

A gravelly voice whispered into his ear, Jonas's fluffy hair nudging into his face. He went into overdrive.  
He wasn't sure who said it, if it was from the video, at this point he almost forgot what he heard. Either way, it made his skin crawl in an almost comforting way.   
His back arched, his hips begged to buck forward but were held down. He tried to grab at his blankets, but was met with something cold, and muscly. He gripped on. He was panting just as the quickly building feeling began to burst. He couldn't breath. Every feeling he could have was happening at once, a wave of pleasure sweeping over him.   
Then it stopped. He groaned lightly, leaning further back, resting on whatever was supporting him. His lips curled into a small smile, just as he fell onto his mattress.   
Still in sleepy bliss, he looked around, seeing a blurred silhouette peering down at him, horns delicately pointed in. 

His mouth opened. "Holy fuck."


	2. Chapter 2

Jonas's mind flew into a panic, but the same feeling from before came back. He couldn't move.  
Every attempt to look at the figure only made his eyes want to close more, like they were being pushed at- his temples starting to ache from even trying. As tears began to well up, trying to get him to blink, the figure bent down. With how fuzzy his vision was, he could only make out teeth, with lips slowly curling into a smile around them.  
Jonas's head erupted into a blinding headache, his eyes closing, and an impending need to sleep fell over him.  
\-------------------------------------------------------  
A meek, cool blue light shone in through the windows, a calm, comfortable air blowing in with it. Jonas clutched onto his pillow, sleepy eyes slowly opening just enough to see the washed out colors of his room.  
His blankets hugged onto his hips as he slowly outstretched an arm above his head- cold air dared to seep in under his blanket, just as it was pulled off him.  
The same onslaught of panic reappeared, just this time more confused than fearing. Attempting to see in the dark room, he reached out, his hand meeting with a cold, soft object. It breathed.  
Immediately he snuck his arm back in, shuffling further into the wall. The mattress tipped down as weight was put on it. Trying to push himself further away, he laid flattened against the wall.  
What he only could think was a hand crept over his leg, slowly sliding up. Jonas hugged his legs to his chest, rolling in the other direction in the hopes it would go away.  
"Hey, you want your blankey back?"  
It was patronizing, to say the least. He could feel the smugness leaking off its face, though he didn't dare to look back. "Joey..." it cooed.  
With all the strength Jonas had inside, he could barely muster up enough to speak. "G-Go away.." It was broken, but he was sure it was heard. The demon had yet to hurt him, so it'd probably want to take his soul or something, right? Those kind leave when you tell them too. He was pretty sure. Maybe.  
"C'mon, turn around." It still had the same character as before, but seemed more assertive. Jonas didn't budge.  
As much as he'd like to say it was to stand his ground, it was out of fear. He was halfway between crying and unable to breath, and with every second the tension he felt grew even more.  
Was the demon a violent one that just hadn't done anything yet? Would it hurt him? His mind started roaming as tears started falling, a light sniffle let out once and a while.  
He felt the familiar warmth of his blanket move back over him, this time accompanied by a long-nailed hand placing it over him. He quivered under it, but became a slight bit calmer from the blanket. He could feel the weight behind him. It was still there.  
Even with that though, he really did feel safer, the blanket feeling like protection. He hadn't noticed that he still felt tired, the heaviness of his eyelids becoming more and more apparent. He thought about how he had to stay awake, but it just made his eyes want to close even more.  
His arm was dragged backwards, pulling his body clumsily along with it. A hand was on his waist, flopping him over towards his side. With a final pull, his head rested gently on the figure near him.  
With a shocked expression, his eyes shot open. He was still half asleep, and weary of what was happening. Something reverberated in his head, shaking it. It felt like his head was being pulled down, and a low buzzing sound progressively getting louder the longer he let his eyes stay open.  
Jonas suddenly stopped as he let his head fully rest down, his body unmoving accept for slow breathing. A hand moved to pet his hair, the fluffy curls framing his almost-sleeping face. He hated this. Whatever kind of sleep paralysis he just felt wasn't caused by nothing, yet he still couldn't fight it. Along with the physical pain given when he tried to open his eyes, there was the slightest tinge of loneliness. It was buried deep down in fear, but it was still there.  
His hands balled into fists, he moved his arms to weakly wrap around the body of the person below him, and the same feeling a creeping smile came snuck back in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the angst :( The next chapter's pretty porn-y though, so that's good I gusss


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter should be posted sometime soon! This one doesn't have that much porn-y-ness (or any at all, rather) because I had to split up the chapter, so I'll post that next one asap.

Jonas's eyes calmly opened, his room seemingly unchanged. Warm air came through the windows, the sun blocked out by heavy curtains. Jonas slowly bent his arms, hoisting himself up under his warm covers.  
Everything felt blurry, and even in the dark he could feel something off, though the last he remembered was falling asleep. Wait- no there was something before that. Shaking? Sleep paralysis, maybe?  
Instantly he remembered- like a shock to the brain, it all came flooding back. The memory made him jump back, and his skin crawl, almost too much to seem real. It could've been a dream, the 'off' feeling definitely reinstated that.  
Determined to prove it to himself that he had just imagined it, Jonas peered back down towards his mattress. The only sound he could hear was his breathing, and in the dark, he could see nothing but black. Meekly, he dragged his hand across the cotton fabric. Not fully convinced, he pushed down, his unblinking eyes wide open. It gave in, the familiar feeling of his bed guaranteeing safety.  
He sank back down. His body slumped into the soft warmth, and his face rubbed against his blanket as he felt a small tap against his toe.  
He jumped up, his heartbeat so loud it hurt, tingling all over his body as he grabbed his foot under the covers. As his vision adjusted just enough to make out shapes, he saw a long, plastic strip stuck to his toe. It was a straw wrapper.  
Relief instantly came over him. He laid his head down, still shaken. Just as he closed his eyes he was overcome with dread. It felt wrong for the situation, he just saw there wasn't anything there, right?  
The feeling wasn't fleeting. He could feel every second as it passed, and his thoughts got worse with each one.  
How could a straw wrapper be stuck to his foot with one tap? How could he not feel it before it was stuck? Had he ever even drank anything in his bed that had a wrapper?  
They were stupid questions, questions he knew were just plain pointless to ask. It was just a wrapper, but the anticipation he felt kept growing. Something had to happen. That had to have been a sign for something messing with him. He felt so ready for something to pop out at him that he was slowly responding like it already had. He was bringing his knees closer to his body, gripping his hands tighter- then he felt a dip in the bed beside him. It was slight, but it was enough to set off red alerts in his head.  
His heart was beating like he was running, but he stayed stationary, his reflexes not yet catching up to his thoughts.  
"You hungry, Joey?"  
The voice was thick, and laced with humor- and worst of all, inches away from Jonas. He could feel it's breath on his skin, tingly, and slightly warm as it blowed the hair on his face.  
Jonas shrieked, and flew into panic; completely short-circuiting. He tried jumping back from it, but in his frazzled sate he fell off the side of the bed. Clumsily gripping onto the floor, he pushed himself back up, and ran towards his door.  
His hallway was illuminated by warm daylight, the cheeriness ripped down as Jonas tore through the house. After gingerly walking down a flight of stairs, adrenaline high, but grace with the action falling short, he found himself in his kitchen, two feet away from his apartment door.  
He hadn't really thought about it until now, but whatever demon was here really only affected him in his bedroom, seemingly. He had showered before he had went to bed, but it left him alone then. He had gone to the bathroom before it took his blanket, but it didn't touch him once.  
'Maybe it can't get you here.'

The words echoed in his mind. 'Maybe it can't get you here.' Blankly staring at the door, Jonas put his hand back down towards his side, away from the door knob. 'It can't get you here.' He wasn't going to leave.  
With his heart still beating out of his chest, he stood on the wooden floor, not sure of what to do. What could you do? What could possibly be the correct response to that?  
Slowly Dean started slipping back in his memory. With the idea in his mind that he was safe, Jonas sat down at his wooden kitchen table, the chair below him creaking as he hit the pillowed surface. He leaned his head into his hands, exhaustion completely taking over.  
He felt wiped out, and what he was thinking about definitely didn't help it. Memories of his childhood, hours upon hours of listening to an empty voice repeat the same things over and over again in his church, the anger.. And then there was the guilt, of course.  
It crept in, slow enough you didn't notice it, until you were eaten alive by it. He didn't want to let himself fully remember what he had gone through, and what Dean had said to him, but remembering the feeling was enough. He cringed.  
And it followed you, too. Even now, it still crept back in.  
Jonas was overcome with the overwhelming urge to cry, his whole body practicing begging him to let himself. He didn't want to, for the same reason he needed to in the first place. Dean.  
What would he think of this? Cowering from a demon in your kitchen, crying. His whole body felt tingly, and uncomfortable. He just felt wrong. Everything was wrong.  
Before he could register it, he was sobbing. Uncontrollable heaving, and groaning in between each deep breath. His body shook, his arms gripped onto his head as he let out every issue he had held in.  
The more he thought about it, Dean, the demon, the more he began to remember how he felt about it. Sure, he was scared now, but in the moment it had broken into him more. There some deep set loneliness that a little attention helped, regardless of who exactly that attention was coming from. With the sobbing and the guilt, remembering that detail now did nothing but make him cry harder, but it did raise a question.  
Did he want it to stay?  
The air went stiff around him, labored breaths being the only sound next to a subtle ringing in his ears, the question still lingering. It was hard to fathom, whether because of what was beaten into him all his life, or because Jonas was still having a hard time accepting this was real in the first place, but the only answer in his mind was yes.  
The atmosphere around Jonas grew colder, more vacant, as his emotions followed. Every moment he felt the consuming fear around the demon, there was a hidden amount of excitement that someone was there at all.  
Something crashed behind him, extensive clanging following behind it. Jonas whipped his head around, half of him hoping to see the demon, but nothing was there, other than a proud-standing shelf. Trailing down, he saw a pot and a ladle sitting haphazardly on the floor. He sighed, uninterestedly standing up and walking over towards the kitchenware. He picked it up, delicately placing it back up on the shelf, on his tip-toes.  
The same feeling of came back. A thought in the back of his mind growing louder. 'If you were upstairs the demon would've helped you reach the shelf.'  
It seemed ridiculous, but at this point he was caving in. Jonas took two steps over to his staircase and looked up into the darker upstairs of his home. Jonas's mind was in shambles and his body was shaking, gradually become more noticeable as his anxiety grew.  
Reluctantly, he took one step back up the stairs. Seconds felt like hours as he took the next step, scanning the wall for a light switch to flick.  
He found it, and the staircase above him illuminating. The patterns on his walls made him dizzy, but he still walked up towards them.  
He reached his room, the door still swung open, and he looked inside. There was nothing there.  
With a small ounce of disappointment, he walked over to his bed and sat down. The beds softness that usually felt welcoming only reminded him of what wasn't there. Minutes ticked by as Jonas looked down at his legs, slowly swaying them as he waited for something to happen. Nothing did. "Hello?" Without even thinking, his mouth had started moving. "Are you still here?"  
There was no response, but he kept going. "Im sorry I screamed." Jonas's eyes flickered back and forth across his room, scanning for even a little sign. Sighing, he tried a little harder to be persuasive. "I miss you."  
He heard a loud crash from downstairs, and ringing metal clanging following after. He ran back out of his room, and halfway down the stairs when he saw what had happened.  
Objects were flying in the air, chairs were knocked over, and flour was covering his entire counter. The sound was overwhelming, objects clashing into each other every very couple seconds. Jonas ducked and covered his ears as best he could, his head starting to hurt as he made his way through the room. "What's- stop!" The sound starting becoming unbearable, all he could do was cower and cover his ears.  
With another crash, everything had fallen on the floor in unison. The sounds had stopped, and left Jonas's ears with a loud ringing.  
Slowly he started looking up, peering around the space. Besides the mess, there still was nothing there. He stood up, pushing two wooden spoons over with his foot as he walked over to his table.  
Flour was dusted between every panel of chestnut wood, Jonas's eyes slowly following them up until seeing a dish in the dead-center of the table.  
Three pancakes sat on the plate with a little cup of warm syrup next to them.  
If it weren't for the surprising amount of flattery he felt, he'd have run for the hills at the very sight of something so obviously a trap, but with the warmth it made him feel, almost endearing, mixed with the pure shock that the demon could manipulate his first floor, he didn't.  
And much like everything else he had done so far, it was a dumb idea.


End file.
